


Ecological Fitting

by OneOfThoseThings



Series: Interspecies Compatibility [3]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, Alien Gender/Sexuality, Almost definitely not platonic unless you're using a problematic definition of platonic, Comedy of Errors, Explicit Consent, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Interspecies Relationship(s), Mutual Masturbation (Basically), Telepathic Sex (Sort Of), Telepathy, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:33:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22779514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneOfThoseThings/pseuds/OneOfThoseThings
Summary: The Doctor works on his technique for consorting with non-Time-Lords. Donna heroically puts up with his efforts.
Relationships: Tenth Doctor/Donna Noble
Series: Interspecies Compatibility [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1637608
Comments: 14
Kudos: 148





	Ecological Fitting

**Author's Note:**

> Ecological Fitting (ala Wikipedia): the process whereby organisms colonize and persist in novel environments, use novel resources or form novel associations with other species as a result of the suites of traits that they carry at the time they encounter the novel condition.

The Doctor made it two days before he gave in and broached the topic of trying telepathic synthesis again. He approached Donna in the bubble room, where she liked to watch the fish circling around in the floating spheres. 

“Donna,” he started casually, “you look nice today.” 

Donna looked down at herself and then back up at him, immediately suspicious. “What do you want?” 

He coughed, scratching at the back of his head. “Don’t ask like that! I say nice things to you all the time!” 

She narrowed her eyes. “I’m not going on another snail hunt in a swamp! I don’t care how therapeutic the sludge is! Just buy the shells at a market like everyone else! The TARDIS won’t care!” 

The TARDIS popped open a panel and produced a bright yellow winter hat with pom-poms that flopped into a bubble and startled three fish. 

“You see!” Donna said, like that was supposed to mean something to him. 

The TARDIS tried to nudge her toward the sauna, recommending heat to flush out her delirium.

“I’m sure my shoes are fine,” Donna told the ceiling. 

The Doctor wondered, not for the first time, whether he’d hallucinated the inside of Donna’s mind. From the outside, it seemed just as jumbled and generally worrisome as ever. 

“Don’t look at me like that! She likes me!” Donna patted the coral and the TARDIS lit up a display of something called Panda Cams.

“Course she does. Why wouldn’t she?” the Doctor said, discretely clicking off the screen. “Now then, I’ve been meaning to ask you… That thing you were helping me out with…”

Donna looked at him blankly. 

“The, uh, connecting,” he gestured vaguely to his own head. 

She looked at his hair and then back at his face. “Connecting…?”

He rolled his eyes. “The ‘mind sex.’” 

“Oh!” Donna sat up. “Why didn’t you just say that??”

“Because it’s not actually called that!” he said. 

Donna waved that off. “Oh, what, like there’s an Académie Française for this sort of thing?”

The Doctor wrenched himself back on track. “Well, whatever you want to call it― though, for the record, the answer shouldn’t be ‘mind sex’― I was wondering…”

She crossed her arms, waiting (im)patiently. 

He scrubbed at the back of his head. “I was wondering if you might be willing to… give it another go? Sometime.”

Donna blinked. “Oh, sure. Want to do it now?”

“It’s just I think I could― Wait― What did you say?”

She shrugged. “I’ve got five minutes. You want to sit here or…?”

“Here’s fine!” he said, already sliding onto the synthetic moss next to her. 

Donna laughed, “Careful now. Don’t want to come on too strong,” but she shifted around to face him.

He had his hands raised before he thought to ask, "Should we, uh, talk or something?"

Donna gave him a scornful look and made an impatient gesture with one hand. 

He took a deep breath and dove back in. 

~*~

As it happened, he had not hallucinated how fascinating Donna’s mind was. 

His Time Lord fractals caught in the chaotic human whirlpools of feeling and sensation. The light bounced between knots and tangles, catching and snaring. 

He moved deeper, taking the lightning in and refracting it back. Lichtenberg figures etched the space between concepts, sweeping away as easily as sand. 

Waves of speculation crashed in from all directions, each impact creating endless others. Her thoughts were elemental and unrefined and glorious. 

The churning pulled him under, and he let the current take him. 

~*~

When he opened his eyes, Donna was staring back at him. “All right? You were sort of whimpering a bit there…”

The Doctor carefully disengaged his hands, trying to get his breathing under control.

Donna didn’t seem to be experiencing any such difficulties. She looked as unruffled as if she’d been clicking through channels on the telly. 

He did a quick time check― he’d been in for seven minutes and thirteen seconds. He couldn’t seem to take in enough oxygen. His lungs burned, blood thundering in his ears.

“Donna,” he said, “That was― You are―“ He couldn’t decide where he was going with that. “Does that really not feel like anything to you?”

She tilted her head, considering. “Felt a bit like when you have a song stuck in your head, but you can’t remember any of the lyrics… But instead of a song it’s like I’ve forgotten how wool feels.” She looked at him. “What’s it feel like for you?” 

“Brilliant,” he said. Mainly so he wouldn’t accidentally say “Sacrosanct.” 

She snorted, “Doesn’t take much with you, does it?”

He stared at her, trying to reconcile lightning twisting into impossible knots with Donna looking at him with all the emotion with which she’d regard a slightly daft moth.

“I’m a bit hungry,” she said. “Do you think we could go somewhere with curry? Or something spicy. But nothing sentient! I don’t want to chase it all over my plate.”

“Sure,” he said.

“Great!” She jumped up, dragging him along. “You’re buying. Bring the right currency this time. None of those weird buttons with eyes.” 

* * *

The next day or week, depending on how one counted, the Doctor had to hunt around to locate his companion. He found Donna in a room that looked like the inside of Big Ben with the face open to a view of 28th century London. 

“When did we get this?” he asked, peering around. He didn’t remember making it. 

Donna looked up, feet dangling over the edge. “Oh, I asked the TARDIS if I could get some synthetic sunlight. I don’t think the concept of sunbathing quite translated…”

The TARDIS flashed up a rendering of a Komodo dragon and dropped three neon green umbrellas out of the ceiling. 

“Right, that’s _very nearly_ a cocktail,” Donna patted the floor. 

A coconut rolled by.

The Doctor stepped over it, clearing his throat. “Donna, I’ve been thinking… If you’d be willing… I could try out some physical stimulation. For you.”

Donna rolled her head around to look at him slightly inverted. “Is this about those green things with three eyes because I’ve already told you that’s just how far humans can jump! I’m not a damn kangaroo!” 

“No, not― I’ve _seen_ humans jump further than that, you know― But no, that’s not what I’m talking about.” 

Donna eyed him upside down, like a skeptical owl. 

“I was thinking,” he continued, “You don’t seem to have any receptors capable of registering mental connections. But you have plenty of receptors for tactile sensations. If I trigger those responses before making a mental connection, it would make the interaction a bit more interesting to your available senses. What do you think?” 

After a slight delay, her head bobbed up like a student caught napping. “Uh… yeah? Sure. Yes.” 

“Brilliant!” He sent a quick mental request to the TARDIS and a large cushion flopped down from the ceiling behind her. “Hop up on that, would you?” 

Donna lurched forward to avoid the pouf and she used the momentum to jerk around. “ _What_ the― What’s _that_ for?!” 

The Doctor stepped around the edge, thinking he perhaps should have been more specific about size. “That’s for you. Do you want to take your clothes off or shall I?”

She stumbled, mid rise. “You what?” 

He pulled his jacket off, extending his range of movement. “Both manual and oral stimulation work best with direct contact.” He paused, running through a mental checklist of social protocols. “Would you like me to take my shoes off?” 

Donna looked like her translation connection had switched to Judoon. “Mate, I’m not having sex with you,” she said slowly. 

“No, of course not.” he said. “I can easily stimulate orgasm without intercourse. More easily, from most perspectives. Why aren’t you taking your clothes off?” 

Donna spoke very slowly, staring hard. “…No offense, Doctor, but I’m used to partners with a little more… experience… when I decide to get physical.”

He waved that off. “Oh, I read all the materials. You humans always make things sound so complicated, but it’s just an organic launch sequence when it comes down to it. If I may,” he stepped closer, holding his hands out. 

Donna looked back and forth between his hands, thoroughly befuddled. “What?”

“I believe these sorts of things usually commence with a kiss. May I?” 

She flicked a look down at his mouth and then back up to his eyes and repeated the circuit a few more times. “I thought you didn’t do this. Do you even know _how_ to do this? For starters, it usually goes for a fair bit longer than five minutes.” 

“Yes, of course. I’m just going to use physical stimulus. It’s the mental space that messes with my perception.” He paused expectantly. “I’ll need your consent to continue, obviously.” 

She seemed to take that as some sort of dare. “Fine, let’s see that book learning in action. But if it gets weird I’m calling it off!”

“Nothing weird; got it.” He nodded, leaned in, and pressed his lips to hers, just enough to engage the more sensitive nerve endings. 

Donna softened up a bit, unclenching her jaw. He coaxed her mouth open with fractional adjustments, swiping his tongue across her lower lip. She tasted like salt and copper and just a hint of pheromones. He swept deeper, angling his neck to accommodate. 

Donna made a funny little noise, rubbing her tongue against his. 

He pulled back, assessing. “You should probably take an iron supplement.”

“What?” she puffed, taking a minute to refocus. “ _What?!_ ” 

“Never mind,” he said, making a note to remind her later. “Do you mind if I take your blouse off?”

She shrugged it off herself. “Don’t think I missed that iron comment. This had better not turn into a medical exam!” 

“Right, right.” He pulled the inside of her wrist up to his mouth, working sensitive nerves near the surface and then licked a path to the inside of her elbow. With his free hand he applied just a bit of pressure to the junction of her right pectoral and latissimus dorsi. 

Donna made another strange sound, like she’d lost track of whether she should be inhaling or exhaling. “OK, that’s… not half bad.”

He added the lightest scrape of teeth and her pulse jumped under his fingertips.

* * *

Thirty-eight minutes and sixteen seconds later, Donna was sprawled out, panting. “That was― Are you telling me you could do that this whole time?”

The Doctor scrubbed his forearm over his jaw, hunting for a handkerchief with his other hand. “Course I could. Said I could, didn’t I?” Finding no better alternative, he licked his thumb and fingers clean. “You’re low on potassium. You should eat more bananas.” 

Donna made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sigh, still struggling to catch her breath.“I’m going to let that go, because I’m suddenly in a forgiving mood.” She certainly seemed more relaxed, stretched out on the cushion.

“Seems the trial run was a success,” he said, looking around for his shirt, which Donna had inexplicably yanked off while he was experimenting with pressure on her sacral plexus. 

Donna laughed, “Yeah, that worked for me.” She gave him a considering look. “Want to see what it looks like from the inside?” 

He frowned, “I don’t think an endoscopy would be particularly thrilling for either of us…” 

She choked on a cough, “No, not― Do you want to do your thing?” She tapped her temple. 

He stopped looking around. “Really?”

“Yeah, but if you need me to sit up I’ll need a minute.” He immediately lay down facing her and she cackled like a kookaburra, but lifted her head to let him slide one hand under it.

~*~

In her mind's eye, the lightning sparked fireworks, bleeding contented turquoise and indigo that sank into every surface. It felt warmer, like the center of a sunbeam. Deep chasms swallowed the edges, curling them back in on themselves. 

Slowly and then all at once, the sense of boundaries and horizons receded, leaving an open field of pure potential. It lapped out and back in again in endless recursive ripples. 

~*~

When he opened his eyes, gasping, Donna was asleep, her head heavy in his hand. 


End file.
